


The Air We Breathe

by Bakubitch



Category: She-Ra - All Media Types, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, She-Ra: Princess Of Power
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Friends to Enemies, Post-Season/Series 01, Romance, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Trans Bow, Trans Character, Where your soulmates name appears on your wrist when you turn 18, this is so gay!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2019-08-29 12:45:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16744237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bakubitch/pseuds/Bakubitch
Summary: On the day of Adora’s eighteenth birthday, she wakes up with Catra’s name written on her wrist in short, jagged spikes.“What the hell is this?” she asks from her position on Glimmer’s floor (she hasn’t been able to sleep on her own since she was like twelve, sue her). She frowns and points to the writing, stretching her wrist up so her best friend can see the freshly inked skin.Glimmer takes one look at her wrist and says, “Shit.”On the day of Adora's eighteenth birthday, she finds out soulmates are a thing.





	1. Chapter 1

On the day of Adora’s eighteenth birthday, she wakes up with Catra’s name written on her wrist in short, jagged spikes.

“What the hell is this?” she asks from her position on Glimmer’s floor (she hasn’t been able to sleep on her own since she was like twelve, sue her). She frowns and points to the writing, stretching her wrist up so her best friend can see the freshly inked skin.

Glimmer takes one look at her wrist and says, “Shit.”

 

***

 

On the day of Adora’s eighteenth birthday, she finds out soulmates are a thing.

 

***

 

Soulmates. Catra is her freaking _soulmate_.

The Horde had never told them about the marks, but then again, they hadn’t exactly told them that their military operation was on the _bad_ side of the war. She wonders if any of her ex-teammates/roommates know about the existence of soulmates. She wonders if Catra knows.

Bow and Glimmer exchange worried looks, which really doesn’t give Adora much comfort about the situation. They try to explain the basics, reassuring her that on their eighteenth birthdays they’ll get marks too, but Adora still doesn't understand. It’s frustrating. Complicated. She hates not knowing things.

“It’s just a universal thing,” Glimmer assures. “It always has been. No one knows any different.”

“But what does it _mean?”_

“It means,” Bow begins patiently, “that there’s one person out there that you just fit with, you know? They’re perfect for you in every way.”

“You belong together,” Glimmer finishes.

Adora can feel her face morphing into a frown. “But mine spells Catra. There must be a mistake.”

“Yikes,” is all Bow says, which should really tell her all she needs to know.

“There’s no mistakes, Adora.” Glimmer gives her a sympathetic look, which she decides to ignore.

“But she left me for dead!” Adora cries, losing her cool for the first time in a long time. And she had just fought in a _war_ , for goodness sake. “She’s tried to kill me at least four times.”

Bow winces. “I mean, we did always think you and Catra were kinda,” he scrunches up his face in thought, as if he’s scared of Adora’s reaction, “–Intense,” he finishes.

“We’re friends.” She sighs, contemplating. “Well, we were friends. Before, you know,” she waves a flippant hand, “she decided that she wanted me dead.”

Glimmer bites her lip, tapping her fingers nervously against her knee. “In all your years of friendship, you never wanted to like, kiss her or anything?”

Adora blinks. “What’s kiss?”

 

***

 

Adora learns _a lot_ on her eighteenth birthday.

 

***

 

With the whole war thing, she doesn’t get a chance to think about soulmates again. There’s meetings to be had, towns to clear up, peace-treaties to be drawn. Adora spends most of her time trying to wrap her head around the ins and outs of Etheria, with its expansive land and many neighbourhoods. It’s a lot to take in.

They’re in the middle of a meeting, discussing a recent Horde attack on Plumeria, when the news of Entrapta’s whereabouts is confirmed.

She’s alive. Entrapta’s alive.

Feeling giddy, the Best Friend Squad rush out immediately and head straight to the Horde. With no plans, no back up, and most of all, no freaking common sense, they find themselves hiding behind a massive metal beam just outside of Horde territory. It’s not until she’s decked out in the full Horde uniform (it didn’t work last time, Bow, so how is it going to work this time?) that she fully realises what she’s walking into.

Catra. Soulmates.

Had Catra turned eighteen yet? She doesn’t think so. They had never actually known Catra’s birthday – Shadow Weaver had purposely kept it from her, not wanting to give Catra any details of her life before the Horde. But they had always celebrated anyway, on a totally random date of November third.

What if her birthday had passed, and Adora’s name is printed on her skin? Or what if it’s not? What if Catra is Adora’s soulmate, but Adora isn’t Catra’s? She tries to ignore the brief stab of disappointment she feels, because she _shouldn’t_ be disappointed. She shouldn’t. Catra is her enemy.

But she has no time to dwell, sneaking through the disgusting corridors, sweating profusely and wishing she had just stayed the hell home.

But Entrapta is here. And she’s alive. And they’re going to get her out.

They round the corner, trying their hardest to be stealthy, but probably failing miserably. Adora still isn’t quite used to her tree-like limbs as She-Ra. They had managed to knock out the guards at one of the side entrances – only two, weirdly. She has a small sense of panic, because how is this so easy? And where had the message of Entrapta’s whereabouts come from?

She can’t help but feel like this is some sort of trap. A very bad idea.

“I think I can hear something,” Glimmer whispers, arm shooting out to halt them in their steps. “I’m going to teleport closer. Stay here.”

“ _No_ , Glimmer–” Adora tries to grab her friend’s sleeve, but it’s too late, and she’s flailing through thin air.

“Dammit,” Bow curses. “We need to follow her.”

Adora nods her head in agreement, ready to move, but then Bow is being yanked backwards by his shirt. Adora spins around on the spot, ready to unleash She-Ra on a bitch (thank you, Glimmer, for teaching her how to swear), but then she stops when she sees who exactly is cradling her best friend in her arms. She groans when Scorpia shoots her a placid grin. Despite She-Ra being like, eight freaking foot tall, Scorpia still towers over her.  

“Hello again!” Scorpia calls. “Sorry about this!”

Scorpia picks Bow up as if he weighs nothing and launches him against the opposite wall. He crashes into it with a loud _thunk_ , but then picks himself up quickly and dusts himself off.

“I’ve got this overgrown child,” he calls. “Go and find Glimmer!”

Adora pauses, concern gracing her features. She doesn’t want to leave him, but he’s already got his quiver drawn, ready to strike. “Are you sure?” she asks.

_“Go!”_

She runs.

 

***

 

But she doesn’t get very far.

“Hey Adora.”  

 

***

 

“Where’s Entrapta?” Adora demands.

She tries to ignore the blood rushing to her cheeks when Catra saunters into view, leaning her back against the stone wall casually. Her heart is beating frantically, blood rushing in her ears, and she wonders how the hell she didn’t notice this before.

“What? Don’t I get a hello?” Catra asks, but she’s wearing that stupid smirk that makes Adora want to punch her in the face. Or something.

Something.

“Answer the question.”

Catra rolls her eyes and inspects her nails, like she’s already bored of the conversation. “She’s fine. She’s got a pretty sweet deal here.”

“Like I believe that,” Adora scoffs.

“Believe what you want, princess, but it’s the truth.”

_Princess._

She exhales shakily. “Are we going to fight?”

“Do you want to fight?” That smirk again. The one that Adora kind of loves.

Hates.

She really doesn’t know.

“No.”

Catra’s eyebrows raise in surprise. She pushes herself off the wall and stalks towards her, staring at her in a way that makes her want to run and hide. Or launch herself at her. Or punch her. Or punch her with her mouth, because apparently that’s what kissing is.

Sounds of fighting echoes in the distance, and Adora hears a loud, “ _Ouch!”_ But it doesn’t matter, because that was definitely Scorpia’s voice, and she knows that Bow is too good a person to do any real damage to the other woman. She sighs and throws her sword down on the ground, feeling the pulling change of turning back into normal, not eight foot tall, Adora.

Catra watches the change, facial expressions betraying her interest. “There she is,” she says softly, and Adora, for the second time in five minutes, has to will away the blush rising to her cheeks.

“Tell me where Entrapta is.”

“Entrapta likes it here,” Catra purrs. “We’re best friends now. Didn’t you hear?”

Jealously stabs through her like a knife, and she feels her eyebrows pull down into a scowl. “What would you know about friendship?” she snaps.

“A lot more than you.”  

“Yeah, because leaving your friends dangling from a cliff is a _real_ nice thing to do.”

“You’re not my friend anymore, Adora!” Catra barks. “When will you get that into your thick skull? We’re not friends. We’re not anything.”

Adora tries not to feel bitterly hurt, but after a moment of silence, she realises that she really has drawn the short straw in the soulmate lottery. Because soulmates are real, and Catra is hers. Her person. The one person that’s apparently supposed to fit her perfectly.

What a load of shit.

Before she can stop herself, she finds herself glancing down at her wrist. Much to her dismay, her ex-best friend’s name is still peeking out from under her sleeve, taunting her. She tries to discreetly cover it up before Catra can see it, but the other girls’ gaze is already flicking down, processing it, eye’s going wide.

“Holy shit. Did you get a tattoo?”

“No.”

“Then what–” Catra pauses, and then understanding blooms on her face. “Your soulmate,” she says flatly. “You turned eighteen.”

Adora gapes. “You _knew_ about this?”

Catra shrugs coyly, hair brushing against her shoulders. “I’ve heard things.”

She really doesn’t want to hear the answer, but it doesn’t stop her from tentatively asking, “Have you got one yet?”

"No,” Catra replies, sounding weirdly sincere.

“Oh.”

“Who is it?” She doesn’t know if its wistful thinking, but Catra’s tone sounds almost bitter. “Is it the cute one? The one with the bow?”

Before Adora has the chance to answer, Glimmer has popped into existence between them, with Entrapta gripped tightly in her hand. “C’mon, we need to go!” she shouts, grabbing Adora’s wrist.

“Go?!” Entrapta cries, trying to pull out of Glimmer’s vice-like hold. “But I like it here! Can Catra and Scorpia come too?”

Catra springs to action, swiping her legs out and knocking Glimmer down to the ground. She throws her arm around Entrapta’s shoulders, pulling the purple-haired girl against her tightly. “You’re not taking her anywhere.” A cruel laugh escapes from her mouth as Glimmer winces, rubbing her back after the impact. “We’ve bonded.”

Adora fights the urge to roll her eyes. She stalks over to Glimmer and pulls her up into a standing position, wiping invisible dust from her dress. Feeling drained, she turns to Entrapta. “Do you want to stay?”

Entrapta hesitates, looking back and forth between the two groups. “Yes,” she murmurs eventually, guilt visible on her face.  

“What?” Glimmer snaps, but it definitely doesn’t sound like a question. More of a demand. “How can you possibly want to stay here?”

“The technology is very advanced,” Entrapta says, wringing her hands together.

“Fine,” Adora accepts, and Glimmer whips her head around so fast that it looks like it’s going to spin all the way round like an owl. She’s only just learned what owls are, mind you, so she doesn’t really know if that’s right. “If Entrapta wants to stay then we should respect her decision.”

Catra shoots her a surprised look, eyebrows climbing high on her forehead, but doesn’t comment.

“I’m sorry,” Entrapta says, and there’s tears forming in her eyes.

“Stay safe,” Adora replies, and then she picks up her sword and pulls Glimmer into a run in the opposite direction.

Catra lets them go.

 

***

 

“So, that was a colossal disaster,” Bow says, and Glimmer grunts in agreement. “I know Catra is your soulmate, Adora, but damn, she’s trouble. That scorpion girl is crazy!”

Adora doesn’t have it in her to reply. She’s exhausted.

That night, she dreams of cats and mice and running through the maze that is Horde territory. She dreams of Catra, lounging on the top bunk of her bed, arm dangling over the side. Dream Adora reaches up from her spot on the bottom bunk and cautiously brushes her fingers against her friends’.

She wakes up with a gasp.

 

***

 

Glimmer turns eighteen next and the name _Bow_ appears on her wrist. She cries to Adora for a week because, as much as this was exactly the outcome she wanted, she doesn’t want to change the friendship group.

Adora rubs her back soothingly, feeds her tomato soup, and spoons her in bed for a week. Glimmer refuses to see Bow, because (and Adora quotes), _“Seeing his stupid face is just too painful right now.”_

And then she starts crying again, because what if Bow doesn’t have her name when he turns eighteen? And what if he doesn’t want to be with her anyway? 

And Adorda loves Glimmer, but if she has to wipe one more bit of snot from her jacket, she might just kill a bitch.

She really wants to tell her friend that her and Bow are _cosmically_ destined to be together, but then she remembers that if that’s true, it’s also true for her and Catra. Which, just seems impossible. So she keeps her mouth shut. 

And then she can’t stop thinking about it, because what if soulmates are wrong? What if they’re not all they’re cracked up to be?

Adora’s certainly isn’t.

She thinks the whole thing is a load of shit.

 

***

 

A few days later, Bow gets suspicious and barges into Glimmer’s room during a crying session, demanding to know what the hell is going on.

They can’t put it off any longer.

Glimmer shows him her wrist. Adora watches them both like she’s in a tennis match (another thing she had just learned from her friends, god, living at the Horde sucked). She waits with baited breath as Bow freezes, looking down at the name on Glimmers wrist in stunned silence, and then he begins to laugh. Adorda winces. Shit. She really thought he would let her down gently, if he didn’t like her.

But then something spectacular happens.

“Oh, I’m glad you find this funny,” Glimmer sasses. “I’m stuck with you for a soulmate.”

“Goodness,” he snickers after the hilarity has died down. He wipes tears away from his eyes, face red and blotchy from his laughter. “I can’t believe this.”

“God, Bow, don’t be a dick,” Adora says, watching Glimmers expression turn from hurt to furious.

He points to Glimmer’s wrist. “That’s me.”

“No shit,” Glimmer retorts, and the look Bow sends her is so weighted, so intense that Adorda has to look away.

Ah.

So that’s what the soulmate fuss is about.

 

***

 

It’s not that Adora isn’t stupidly happy for them, because she really, _really_ is.

It’s just that, with them both kissing and cuddling every five minutes, Adora is starting to feel pretty lonely.

Sometimes – very guiltily – she longs for the crowded dorm rooms of the Horde bunks. She misses being surrounded by her teammates constantly. She misses having Catra curled up at the end of her bed as she sleeps.

She misses Catra full stop.

She loves her friends, but she hates this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg so sorry this took so long, it was my bday and of course I had to have like a week long celebration, because where I live you don't do anything (especially drinking) by halves lol

Adora feels the pull to the Whispering Woods as soon as she wakes up from another dream – or nightmare, depending how you look at it – about Catra. She pushes herself up into a sitting position with trembling arms, trying to shake off the lingering feelings of longing and want and loneliness. Feeling disgruntled, and a little grumpy about being awake at five in the morning, she drags her limbs out of bed, silently tucking the covers back up to Glimmer’s chin so she doesn’t get cold.

She finds herself tugging on her jacket and yanking on her shoes before she has time to sit down and think things through rationally. She probably shouldn’t be doing this. In fact, she _definitely_ shouldn’t be doing this, but she can’t ignore the tug in her brain, the feeling that she _needs_ to be there.

She manages to slip out of the castle unnoticed, which is unusual considering she’s been on lockdown since Queen Angella found out about the trio sneaking into the Fright Zone without adult supervision. Glimmer had been grounded for a week; Bow had been banned from coming over (although, Adora hears him slinking into Glimmer’s room every night – they are soulmates, after all). Adora had received the worst punishment, in her eyes: she was banished to her own room. It’s safe to say that she’s been sleeping pretty terribly.

As she wanders through the woods, she feels the anxiousness bubble up in her stomach, heartbeat skyrocketing the closer she gets to the middle.

“Breathe, Adora,” she mutters, ducking under a tree branch and narrowly avoiding it smacking her in the face.

When she gets into the middle of the clearing, she looks around, disappointed to find nothing. She really doesn’t know what exactly she expected, but it wasn’t an empty clearing. She plops herself down onto a tree stump and sighs, resting her head in her hands.

Despite the endeavour being a complete waste of time, she finds herself able to breathe for the first time in a long time. There’s a certain peacefulness about the forest at five in the morning, the silence that captures the breeze of the wind, trees silhouetted against the rise of the sun on the horizon. The–

“Hey, Adora.”

She sighs.

Never mind.

Fighting the urge to groan, she stands up to attention immediately and spins around to face the one person she really didn’t want to see at this point in time. “What are _you_ doing here?” she blurts, much more nastily than she intended.

But Catra doesn’t look hurt; in fact, she looks positively gleeful, with that stupid smirk on her face. “What? Can’t a girl go for a morning stroll?”

“Not through this part of the woods,” Adora replies, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. She doesn’t know how Catra simultaneously makes her hackles rise and her nerves even out, but somehow, she does it. "And you're not a morning person," she adds. "You never have been."

Catra parks herself beside a tree, leaning back against it in a way that’s so nonchalant and suave that Adora thinks she might just exist purely to be a pain in her ass. If soulmates _are_ real, then maybe that’s true.

Truthfully, she’s been giving this whole soulmate thing a lot of thought. Probably because she’s had to bunk in her own room for a week, or maybe it’s because of the reoccurring dreams of Catra she’s been having. Whatever it is, though, she’s come to realise that she wants someone to fall in love with her for _her_ , not because they have a stupid mark.

And if Catra is her soulmate, the chances of that occurring are pretty much zero.

Coming back to reality, Adora is aware that a good two or so minutes have passed without either of them saying anything. Catra watches her with an intense look, one that Adora doesn’t even want to _think_ about deciphering right now.

“So,” Adora begins slowly. “What are you really doing here?”

“I don’t know,” Catra says, shrugging. “It called to me.”

“Well, you should leave. It’s not safe out here.”

Laughing loudly, and maybe a little cruelly, Catra finally crosses the clearing in a few quick strides, moving into Adora’s personal space. She wants to step back, to create some distance between the pair, but her feet are rooted to the ground, and she finds that some small part of her brain – a stupid part – really doesn’t want to.

“You’re the most dangerous thing out here, princess,” Catra says, voice a low murmur.

She tries not to flush, because it was definitely _not_ a compliment, but their close proximity makes it a mission in itself. “I think that title goes to you.”

“You think so?” Catra asks, arm coming up to rest on the tree beside Adora’s head.

Glimmer would definitely call this an _oh shit_ moment.

She feels boxed in, completely overwhelmed, but at the same time it doesn’t feel like enough. There’s a horrible tension in the air, one she doesn’t quite know how to work out; because Catra hates her, and she knows this, and yet she can’t look away, can’t think rationally. She knows Catra is playing a game – it’s always games with her – but it doesn’t stop her from swaying forward slightly, too caught up in the moment, and then–

Catra steps out of her space with a chuckle, and Adora pretends not to be disappointed. “Met your soulmate yet?”

And of course it always comes back to this. Of course it does.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Adora mutters, pride stung. “Have you got yours yet?”

“No,” Catra says simply. Just when Adora feels the usual stab of frustration she associates with her soulmate, Catra continues with, “I don’t need a mark to know who it is, though.”

Adora winces, because flashbacks of Princess Prom are coming back to her, and all she can see is Catra flinging her arm around Entrapta’s shoulders, pulling her tightly into her side. _Is this what love feels like?_ And suddenly, she realises that maybe Entrapta’s reasons for staying at the Horde are a little more personal than for the freaking technology. _Is this what love feels like?_ And shit, if that’s the case then–

“Entrapta?” Adora asks, a little bitterly, before her thoughts run wild.

She gets another cruel laugh, one which makes her grit her teeth, because why does she always feel like the one who’s out of the loop? And why was she the last one to find out about soulmates? Why did Catra never tell her, if she had heard things around the Horde?

“You sound jealous.”

Adora scoffs. “I’m not jealous.”

“Are you sure?”

No. “Yes.”

Catra, grinning toothily, wraps a finger around Adora’s hair, twirling it in a way that makes her breath hitch. “Anyway, it’s not Entrapta.”

“You can’t possibly know that.”

“I do.”

Adora pulls herself out of Catra’s embrace, trying to create the allusion of aloofness, but she doesn't end up straying far. She never does. But she can’t let Catra cloud her judgement, like she has been for the past month. Even just being here with her alone is dangerous – she’s proved that time and time again. She knows Adora’s weaknesses, the best places to strike. Because Catra is _smart_ , and Adora hadn’t seen her weaponize it in the Horde, but she definitely sees it now. And seeing it in action is a lot more intense than Adora would have thought.

“I should go,” Adora murmurs. “Everyone will be waking up soon.”

Catra’s eyebrows turn down into a scowl. “Great. I forgot that your new best friends existed there. Thanks for reminding me.”

She turns around to leave, but Adora isn’t letting her get away that easy. Who knows how long it’ll be before she sees her again? Weeks? Months?

Reaching out before she can stop herself, she grabs hold of Catra’s wrist, pulling her back around to face her. Although, even without her She-Ra muscles, she vastly underestimates her strength, and Catra ends up slamming into her body, pushing them both up against the tree again.

Which.

Is something.

“Don’t be like that,” Adora says, and her voice doesn’t even betray her internal screams.

“What do you _expect_ , Adora?” Catra snarls. “Do you expect us to just be friends again? For everything to go back to normal? You left.”

“They were killing people!”

“You left _me_.”

Adora sighs, because she knows Catra is never going to get over the betrayal. They’re going to keep having this same argument again and again, and Adora doesn’t know what to do to make it stop. She runs her thumb absentmindedly across Catra’s wrist. “I didn’t want to.”

“Why didn’t you leave when they were hurting _me_?” Catra asks quietly. “For everyone else, you drop everything, but for me?” A cold laugh. “You don’t give a shit. You never gave a shit.”

“I didn’t know.”

Catra yanks her arm from Adora’s grasp, glaring at her. “You did know! You just didn’t care. I was always second best to you,” she says. “I still am.”

“You were always the best in my eyes,” Adora says. “You’re the smartest person I know.” She gives Catra an appreciative look up and down, which she hopes the other girl doesn’t notice. It’ll just add one more embarrassing weakness to the list of things Catra can hold over her. “You’re fast, and more agile than any of the other cadets. You’re a great leader.” She mulls it over for a second, before quickly adding, “Okay, so most of that was because you were trying to kill me, but still.”

“So?”

She wants to tell Catra a lot of things – things like how she can’t sleep without her curled up at the end of her bed, or how she hasn’t been able to form such a close connection with anyone else but her – but she loses her nerve. “So,” Adora sighs. “I’m leaving.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Neither of them move.

Catra hesitates. “When will I see you again?” As if realising her slip up, she stands up straighter, eyes wide, and says, “Not that I want to see you. I just want to fight you. I want to see you _so_ I can fight you.”

“Ha!” Adora shouts, pointing a finger in Catra’s face with a bright grin. “I _knew_ you missed me.”

She’s shoved away with an eyeroll, but even Adora can tell that it’s a fond one. “You wish, princess.”

Huh. Maybe things aren’t as black and white as she thought.

 

***

 

When she finally sneaks back into the castle, Glimmer and Bow (he has no right to judge, he’s not even supposed to be here) are waiting for her in Glimmer’s room, arms crossed disparagingly over their chests. She feels like she’s coming home from a wild night of partying, ready to be grounded by her parents.

“Do we even want to know where you were?” Glimmer asks her.

Bow clucks his tongue disapprovingly.

The only thing Adora manages to say is, “Probably not.”

 

***

 

The next time she sees Catra, turns out, is during a Horde attack.

Which is surprising, because usually Catra doesn’t show up to these kinds of confrontations; she waits until her presence will bring the most unruliness, the most impact. Adora (well, She-Ra) has knocked out most of the Horde soldiers within the first thirty seconds of battle, and it looks like it’s going to be a pretty easy fight.

That is, until Catra – as per – turns up and pulls Adora’s attention away from the rest of the battle.

She’s kicking herself, pinned beneath Catra with some sort of new and advanced Horde contraptions (Entrapta’s input, she’s sure), because she should have _known_. This always happens, because Catra knows how to exploit Adora’s biggest weakness: her impulsive recklessness when it comes to Catra, when it comes to seeing her. She’ll take any form of contact, even when it’s a fight.

And now something bad is probably happening to her friends, because she couldn’t resist the pull, couldn’t resist the encounter.

“Let me go,” Adora seethes, pushing her hips up.

Catra, sitting firmly on her chest, grins menacingly. There’s no fondness behind her expression, because there never is when Adora turns into She-Ra. “I don’t think so, princess.”

She’s just about to refute, to argue back, when someone bashes something against her head and then she falls into darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

When Adora finally comes to, head pounding, eyes blinking slowly against the low lighting of the Horde, she feels the distinct pressure of a hand on her wrist. Her nerves skyrocket as the hand brushes against her sleeve, almost timidly, pushing it up her wrist slightly. She wants to snatch her wrist back, or tell whoever it is to knock it out, but her mouth feels fuzzy and her head feels like it might combust and she doesn’t know if she can open her eyes properly yet.

“Catra!” someone calls, although Adora can’t pinpoint the voice, can’t pinpoint anything other than her aching head, which feels like someone has taken a drill and began _literally_ drilling a hole. “What are you doing?” they follow up with, and Adora blinks lazy, vision blurring so that the person standing before her is just one big fuzzy silhouette.

“Nothing!”

Despite her comatose state, that’s a voice she knows anywhere. It’s a voice that makes her heart race ridiculously fast. The hand on her wrist is abruptly yanked away, but she can’t take notice, already feeling herself slipping back into unconsciousness, vision blurring at the edges. Her last image, before she blacks out, is of Catra’s guilty expression staring down at her, eyes wide and sad.

 

***

 

Adora wakes up a few hours later to the sound of the room door creaking open. She shoves herself upright, glancing around and realising that she’s clearly been moved to some sort of cell. Concrete walls, a low ceiling, one door, and no natural light, which means she must be buried deep down in Horde territory, somewhere underground where no one can reach her.

No way out.

She tries to school her features into something that doesn’t scream complete and utter panic, but she probably fails. She definitely fails. A bottle of water and a wrapped sandwich are tossed into the room and then the door is closing with a soft _click_. Suddenly dehydrated beyond belief, she grabs the water and tears open the lid, taking the longest gulp of her life. Then, as she nibbles at the sandwich, she takes an extensive exploration of the room, trying to search for any visible cracks in the walls, or ways to communicate with someone, _anyone_ , but there’s nothing.

The next few hours are agony. 

No one comes for her. Not even her captors. Not even Catra.

 

***

 

The next day follows much like the first. Adora jerks awake when the cell door opens, and again she gets to her feet, standing as close to the wall as she can when her captor comes in.

It’s Kyle, fidgeting by the door with another sandwich and bottle of water.

“Hey,” he says, gently placing the food down on the floor. He shuffles awkwardly for a second, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“Why am I here?” Adora asks.

“Shadow Weavers orders.”

Of course. Of course it is. She scoffs loudly and leans back against the stone wall. “You can’t just keep me prisoner for the rest of my life.”

“Isn’t that what we all are?” Kyle snaps, voice hard for the first time since she’s met him. Which was like, ten years ago. He’s always been an awkward, soft-spoken, nerdy guy, who just wanted everyone to like him. She’s never heard him sound like _this_ before, eyes wild and angry, voice raw. “Newsflash, Adora. None of us _want_ to be here. We’re here because we have nowhere else to go and this is all we know.”

It hits her then, truly, what Catra had been trying to tell her.

She feels a deep pang of sadness for her old friends. She’s the only one who’s managed to escape and look how far that’s gotten her – right back where she started. Maybe they were all doomed from the beginning. Maybe she’ll never truly be able to break free from the Horde’s clutches.

“You could come with me,” Adora suggests weakly. “All of you could. Why stay here and fight with the Horde? They’re evil.”

“Duh,” Kyle says. “That’s why we’re called the  _Evil Horde_.”

Which, is definitely not the first time she’s heard that. She seriously wonders how _she’s_ never heard anyone call her ex-organisation that. Apparently there’s a lot of things the Horde knew but never told her.

“Hey,” she says, thinking of the biggest coverup in Horde history. “Have you ever heard of soul marks?”

He raises a single eyebrow. “Of course. What about them?”

Great. Kyle too? Seriously, where has she been for the past ten years?

She hesitates. “Do you have one?”

“Obviously,” Kyle sasses. Adora balks, because who is this Kyle and what has he done with the shy, timid boy that was too scared to approach her and tell her that her shoelace was untied that one time (she had fallen down the stairs thanks to him, but that’s a thing of the past).

“Well?” Adora presses. “Who is it?”

He gives her a confused look, one which makes Adora simultaneously want to roll her eyes and bash his head in, but she refrains from doing both. “It’s Rogelio,” he says.  

“Who?”

A frustrated noise. “Rogelio! You know Rogelio.” At Adora’s blank expression, he continues, “We’ve worked on the same team for years! He’s had your back countless times.”

Nothing is ringing a bell. “Uh, I –”

“The lizard!”

Oh. _Him._ She really doesn’t know what to say to that. “That’s…nice?”

“He’s like my emotional support lizard.”

“Right.”

Things have just gotten _extremely_ awkward. Because seriously, how does _that_ one work? If Glimmer’s version of kissing is right, how do they kiss? She’s pretty sure Rogelio would end up biting Kyle’s face off accidentally, but then, who is she to judge? Her soulmate is half freaking cat.

“Well, I’ll be off then,” Kyle says, much more cheerily than the situation expects. “Enjoy your sandwich!”

She does not, in fact, enjoy her sandwich.

 

***

 

The third day is more of the same. Another sandwich. Another bottle of water. This time, no one comes in to talk to her. It has become a sick routine.

She doesn’t know if her friends are okay.

She doesn’t know if they’re even trying to rescue her.

She hopes they are.

 

***

 

A few hours later, the door clicks open quietly and the only person that Adora has wanted to see since she arrived in this stupid place steps through.

“Hey,” Catra says softly, hanging by the door.

Adora stares at her soulmate from her spot on the cold ground, arms wrapped protectively around her legs. “Hey yourself.”

“Looks like the all-mighty Adora isn’t quite as mighty as we thought,” Catra says, although it doesn’t have the same cruel, mocking tilt that’s usually peppered through her words; instead, it’s almost tender. Soft.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you get bashed over the head by your ex-best friend,” Adora mutters, picking at her nails. There’s a stretch of silence, but it’s not awkward, more thoughtful. She doesn’t think any lull in conversation between them could ever be awkward, considering they’ve been together through some of the roughest times in both of their lives. Suddenly, a memory flares up in her brain, one that makes her blood run cold. “Did you,” she takes a shaky breath, “see anything while I was unconscious?”

Catra’s eyes slide to the nearest wall. “No.”

“Did you try to?”

She blinks, once, twice, face intentionally kept blank against the low lighting of the cell. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Unimpressed, Adora gets herself into a standing position, but ultimately keeps her distance. She doesn’t want to get too close, doesn’t want to give Catra any power over her. “My soul mark. Did you see it?”

“No, I didn’t,” Catra answers, and Adora believes her.

“You tried to peak, though.”

“Maybe.”

A startled laugh bursts out of Adora, and she finds herself gazing fondly at the other girl. Because despite the multiple times Catra has tried to kill her, she can’t help the warm fuzzy feelings that gather in her chest when she sees her. “But you didn’t see the name?” Adora asks.

“No.” Catra shuffles closer into the room and closes the cell door behind her gently. Adora should feel trapped – she’s locked in with no escape, alongside a deadly predator who’s already tried to maim her – but she doesn’t. “It’s Bow, isn’t it? Or Glimmer. That’s why you left me as soon as you met them.”

Adora smirks, because finally, _finally_ , there’s something she knows that Catra doesn’t. This is one thing that Catra won’t have the upper hand on. “Wrong,” is all Adora says in response.

Catra takes a step towards her, opening her mouth to reply, and Adora holds her breath because this is _it_ , this is the moment that she tells Catra exactly who they are to each other, how she _really_ feels. But then the moment is over because Glimmer suddenly pops into the room, situating herself between them both.   

“You’re okay!” Glimmer says, flinging her arms around Adora’s neck.

Adora lets herself be hugged, but her gaze remains locked on Catra, who’s now, regrettably, trying to blend into the shadows. “I’m fine. They didn’t hurt me.”

“We need to get out of here,” Glimmer says, taking a step back. Adora watches as Glimmer takes a survey of the room, her face falling comically when she realises they’re not the only two people stuffed in the cramped little cell. She spins around, coming face-to-face with a now irritable Catra. “Oh, hey! Totally not cool what you’ve done, by the way!”

“I was under orders,” Catra says. “Hordak’s orders.”

Adora feels her eyebrows raise, because she thought it was Shadow Weaver’s decision? But then again, she can always count on Kyle to mess everything up. “Hordak?”

“Surprised?” Catra asks callously. “Even the head honcho wants you.” She inspects her nails, feigning disinterest, but Adora knows Catra is bubbling under the surface. “Well,” she drawls. “More like he wants your _sword_.”

Shit. Her sword. She completely forgot about her sword.

“There’s no time for idle chit chat,” Glimmer snaps, yanking Adora’s hand. “The rest of the princesses are outside fighting. We need to go!”

“But my sword!” Adora cries, trying to yank herself out of Glimmer’s vice-like grip.

“No time!”

She lets herself be tugged out of the cell.

Catra doesn’t even try to stop them.

 

***

 

After the ordeal, Bow and Glimmer don’t leave her side for three days straight. Which is why, she guesses, on the third night, finally able to breathe in her own room for the first time, Catra turns up at her window.

“Hey Adora,” she whispers, perched on the edge of the windowsill.

Adora whips around, because what the holy hell? How Catra managed to get all the way up here, she will never know. “What are you doing?” she hisses, leaping out of bed to join her ex-best friend at the window. “You can’t be here.”

Catra laughs, and it’s so like how they used to be – sneaking out, giggling so hard that they always nearly got caught – that Adora feels her breath catch in her throat.

“I figured you might want this back,” Catra says, pulling Adora’s sword from behind her back.

Adora’s eyes go wide, and she grabs her sword from Catra before the other girl has the chance to change her mind. “What?” she mutters dumbly, inspecting the sword. “Why?”

Catra swings her legs into a sitting position, leaning back against the windowsill so casually that it looks like she’s _meant_ to be here. Like she’s not sneaking into a place full of people that would probably shoot her on sight. “What’s the point?” She gives Adora a lazy smile, one which makes her exhale shakily. “You’re the only one who can use it properly. You’re She-Ra.”

“But you don’t like She-Ra!” Adora protests. “You don’t even like me!”

Shrugging, Catra says, “True.”

Which probably shouldn’t make Adora’s heart sink as much as it does – they are enemies, after all.

“Did you get into trouble for letting me go?” Adora asks, eyes cast down. She doesn’t even want to look at Catra, because she’s scared that if she does, her face will betray what she’s truly feeling.

“Nah. Hordak knows that I’m the only one who’s gotten close to conquering Bright Moon.”

Adora freezes, because there’s nothing like being brought back to reality than the reminder of your best friend working with an evil overload bent on world domination. “Great,” Adora says, bitterly. “You can go now.”

Smirking, because Catra knows exactly where Adora’s mind has just gone, she says, “What? Don’t I even get a thank you?”

“Thank you, Catra,” Adora monotones, “for bringing my sword back.”

Catra curls her finger around a strand of Adora’s hair – which is out of her usual ponytail, hanging past her shoulders in loose curls. It’s nowhere as great as She-Ra’s platinum blonde locks, but it’ll do.

“I like your hair down,” Catra says, gazing at Adora in a way that makes blood roar in her ears.

Shit. “Uh.”

Adora is definitely blushing. There’s no way Catra hasn’t noticed.

“So, if Glimmer isn’t your soulmate, and Bow isn’t your soulmate,” Catra begins slowly, finger still running through her hair. “Who is?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“I think it’s _exactly_ my business.”

“And what about you?” Adora fires back, completely avoiding the question. Because this is definitely not a conversation she wants to be having after she’s just been freaking kidnapped. By her _soulmate_. What is her life?

Catra just smirks, again, but she finally drops her hand from Adora’s hair. Adora doesn’t know if she feels relieved or disappointed. “I told you,” Catra says, sighing dramatically. “I already know who mine is.”

“But you don’t have a mark?”

“I don’t need one.”

A moment. A charged, breathless moment, and then Catra’s gaze is flickering down to Adora’s lips, and Adora is leaning in, because she wants to find out _exactly_ what Glimmer had been talking about when she explained kissing.

But then Catra is ducking away quickly, a mocking laugh on her lips. “See you around, princess.”

And then she’s gone.

Adora goes to bed feeling more confused than she has in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We don't disrespect Kyle or Rogelio in this house. 
> 
> Also if u think vld season 8 sucked clap ur hands!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it's been so long, but I'm a very busy bee!! With trying to balance 2 jobs on top of university, uni work, a social life and writing, it seems to be impossible to get updates out quickly!!

Catra turns up at her window the next night.

Adora, from her snug position curled up in bed, lets out a loud sigh when she hears the tell-tale sound of claws dragging across concrete. She can’t really be shocked, because she’s been expecting this all day. But she _can_ be annoyed, because Catra just _had_ to turn up when she’d finally gotten comfy, didn’t she?

“Go away,” Adora groans, stuffing her face back into her pillow.

She tries to remain unbothered by the situation, but Catra’s presence makes the hair on the back of her neck stand on edge. She holds her breath, squeezing her eyes shut as she hears the creek of a floor board. Footsteps coming closer. The bed dips.

“Don’t tell me you’re not excited to see me,” a smooth voice purrs close to her ear.

The glide of a fingertip across her bare arm. She shivers. Inhales through her nose, out through her mouth. “I am going to _kill_ you,” Adora says, shuffling around on the bed to face her ex-best friend. She can’t see much in the darkness, but the faint outline of Catra’s figure sets her nerves on fire. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“No can do, princess,” is all she gets in return.

Adora sighs and turns back over so she’s on her back. Staring up at the bright pink ceiling (thank you, Glimmer), she tries to ignore the feeling of being watched. So what Catra is here? She used to fall asleep with Catra curled up at the bottom of her bed all the time; she’s sure she can do it again. She shuts her eyes (which is probably a bad idea considering Catra has tried to kill her on multiple occasions) and lets the cloud of unconsciousness tug at her brain.

But the peace is short lived, because then there’s an incessant poking at her cheek.

Adora cracks one eye open. “So, not only do you want me dead, but you want me to suffer too?”

“You don’t get to sleep if I don’t get to sleep,” Catra responds simply.

“You can sleep if you want!” Adora explodes, throwing her arms up in the air. “No one is forcing you to be here! I don’t want you here, so just go!”

Scoffing, Catra replies, “Who said I don’t want to be here?”

“You’re impossible.”

They lie in silence for a few, tense moments, and Adora has time to fully reflect on the absolute shambles that is her life. Number One: her previous family turned out to be a mass murdering organisation that kills people. To _death_. Two: her soulmate (who even knew soulmates were a thing?!) turned out to be her ex-best friend, who decided to follow in the footsteps of the mass murderers. Three: said ex-best friend/soulmate is in bed with her. Right now.

Quite the predicament, if she does say so herself.

“What are you thinking about?” Catra whispers.

You. “My life.”

“What about it?” Catra’s breath fans across her face. She wants to move closer. She shouldn’t.

“It sucks.”

Catra laughs, hot and quiet, against her throat, and it sends a pleased shiver right through Adora. When did she get this close? She feels a burst of sadness pang through her chest, because this is exactly what they were like before Adora left the Horde – sharing a bed every night, Catra curled up either at the end of the bed keeping Adora’s feet warm during the cold nights, or snuggled up beside her, arm wrapped across Adora’s stomach.

“I’m glad you find my tragic life amusing,” Adora says, trying her hardest to keep her voice from shaking. “Can we shut up about it now?”

“Enlighten me, princess,” Catra says, in way that’s so smug and self-satisfied that Adora just wants to punch her. Or punch Catra’s mouth with her mouth, maybe. Want and anger is all twisted up in her gut, and she has to literally ground herself by seizing the edge of her pillow.

It won’t help anything, kissing Catra. She’s never actually kissed anyone before, and she’s not sure if Catra has either. It would probably just leave her looking like more of an idiot than usual.

So, she does the only thing she can think of in the moment: she pushes Catra off the bed _._

Although, she vastly underestimates Catra’s quick reflexes, and ends up being tugged down with her. She lands with a hard _ooft_ , sprawled on top of the other girl. She freezes for a moment, because despite growing up without any education on romantic feelings, she knows _exactly_ how this looks. The image sends a shiver through her body, mouth dropping open, the idea rattling right around from her brain, through her chest, lower, before she blinks it away. Her laugh comes out shaky with nervous want.

“Uh, sorry.”

“Adora,” Catra murmurs, bringing her hands up to thumb across Adora’s waist.

Adora goes a little breathless at that. At the idea of it. Her tongue flicks out, wetting her lips slightly, and Catra’s eyes go to them, intent, and then Adora is _spinning_ because Catra is rolling her, pinning her, staring down with startled, searching eyes.

Gazing up, Adora says, “Having fun?” in the smallest voice she can manage. She doesn’t want to spook the other girl away again. She doesn’t know how long they can keep up this dance for.

“That’s one word for it.”

Frozen. She feels frozen. Catra raises her hands above Adora’s head, bracketing her in with her arms. For a second, Catra looks like she’s going to flat out murder her, and Adora wishes she’d told her friends she loved them more often because she’s definitely going to die within the next few minutes. But then Catra leans down a little further and kisses her instead.

She lets out a muffled noise of surprise, because _woah this is totally kissing_ , and Catra pulls away almost immediately as though coming to her senses and that’s definitely not what Adora wants, so she loops her arm around Catra’s neck and drags her back in. It’s warm and wet and weird and really not what Adora was expecting, but she loves it anyway and god, if this is what she’s been missing all this time she _really_ hates the Horde now.

Pushing herself into an upright position, she grabs Catra by the waist and pulls her onto her lap, peppering kisses to her cheeks and neck. The other girl lets out a soft sigh, before cupping Adora’s face and slotting their lips together once more. Adora finds her hands tangling in Catra’s wild mane, tongue dragging along her bottom lip, teeth catching.

It’s perfect. It’s too much. She’s overheating.

She could definitely get used to it; pictures them both strolling through the Whispering Woods, hand in hand, kissing breathlessly against the trees. Going home at night to the same shared space, in bed, growing old together. It’s perfect until she realises. And god, she wishes she didn’t have to realise what a shambles her life is, but she does, and this _is_ her life. They’re on different sides of the war, and Catra is on the _bad_ side, and no amount of convincing and begging and kissing will make her switch.

Adora jars away, letting her arms drop to her sides. Her breathing is uneven, but so is Catra’s; they’re one big, panting mess. Her eyes drop to Catra’s mouth again, because she can’t quite help it, but the other girl is already standing up, brushing off imaginary dust from her clothes.

“This isn’t fair,” Adora says from her spot on the ground, knees curled up defensively in front of her chest.

“Life isn’t fair.”

Feeling hurt, pissed off and cruel, she says, “What happens when my soulmate and I finally get together? Does this stop then? Or do we just pretend like nothing ever happened in the first place?”

Which was definitely the wrong thing to say, because Catra’s expression turns from a slight grimace to an outright snarl. She yanks Adora up to her feet and slams her into the wall behind them, making the breath rush out of Adora’s chest in an audible gasp. “Your soulmate,” she seethes.

“Yes,” Adora snipes back, raising her chin in defiance.

Catra’s eyes flicker down to Adora’s wrist, but it remains covered by her sleeve. “So it’s not –” A pause, a deep breath.

“Not what?” Adora asks.

“Never mind.”

But Catra doesn’t let go of Adora’s t-shirt.

And then there’s a look; an intense hungry look which makes Adora’s heart pound. Catra glances down towards Adora’s lips, and then somehow, they’re kissing again. Adora’s back is still pressed against the wall, and Catra is kissing Adora like she wants to own her, inside and out, and Adora whines into the kiss, high pitched and needy.

After what’s maybe a second, or maybe an eternity, Catra manages to move her mouth away from Adora’s, and she rests their foreheads together.

“This is wrong,” Adora manages.

“No,” Catra says, breathless and triumphant, and Adora’s heart thumps in her ears and she’s so dizzy that all she can do is cling onto Catra, her hands clasping around her ears and into the strands of hair at the bottom of her neck. “You know that’s not true,” Catra continues, mouth moving down to Adora’s jaw, and she kisses along the bone. “I know you feel it. What can your soulmate give you that I can’t?”

Adora makes another incoherent sound. But then she comes to her senses. “No!” she snaps, pushing Catra away. “This has nothing to do with soulmates, or _us_ , or anything!” Ducking out from under Catra’s hold, she furiously wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “This is about you being on the evil side and me being on the good side.”

“Oh, Adora, you’re such a good girl and I’m so terrible and bad,” Catra mocks. “We can never be together because you’re so much _better_ than me.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Sighing, Adora falls gracelessly onto her bed. “You know how I feel about you.”

“Do I?”

She feels the bed dip, and suddenly Catra is sprawled out beside her. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” Adora says, staring up at the ceiling. She refuses to look at Catra, because if she did, she’d probably wind up kissing her again.

Glimmer was right; kissing _is_ amazing.

“I guess not,” Catra whispers.

Catra’s pinkie brushes up against Adora’s. Suddenly, her problems don’t feel so bad.

 

***

 

Adora wakes up the next morning alone.

Which isn’t surprising, because Adora knows Catra would never stay the night. In a way, her relief is palpable, but on the other hand, last night definitely solidified her feelings.

Adora can admit it now. She’s in love with Catra.

She suspects this has been a long time coming. She casts her mind back to her time at the Horde: curious glances, lingering touches, breath hitching when Catra stood a little _too_ close to her. Truthfully, Adora realises this isn’t just a soulmate thing. She didn’t just fall for Catra because she has her name written on her skin. No. This has been building since they were children, propelled into a situation which made them compete against each other. Which really, was the defining force that made Catra feel inadequate in comparison to Adora.

She wonders what their relationship would be like if they had met under normal circumstances, like Glimmer and Bow. Would they be dating now? Would Catra even spare Adora a second glance? Or were they friends because they were _forced_ to be friends, because they had no one else?

She thinks she could fall for Catra in any world, any universe, any time.

The realisation is sobering.

 

***

 

“Guys,” Adora says, nervously fidgeting in front of Glimmer and Bow. “I may have fucked up.”

 

***

 

“So, you’re telling me that you’re in love with Catra?” Glimmer asks, eyebrow arching on her forehead. “The same Catra that tries to kill us every other week?” Her voice rises higher with every word. Bow places a comforting hand on her arm.

“The same Catra that is Adora’s _soulmate?”_ Bow says pointedly, glancing in Glimmer’s direction. “Come on, we can’t exactly blame her for that.”

Adora exhales, because that didn’t go as badly as she expected, did it? “I don’t know what to do,” she says.

“We do what we always do,” Glimmer replies, putting a comforting arm around Adora’s shoulders. “We fight until we can’t fight anymore.”

“And what if I have to fight Catra? What then?” Adora asks.

“Adora,” Bow starts. “You’ve been in love with Catra this entire time.” Adora goes to argue, but Bow puts his hand up which stops her retort in its tracks. “Don’t deny it, we’ve always known,” he says. “If she fights, you fight. You’re like different sides of the same coin.”

“It’s just the way it has to be,” Glimmer interjects.

Is it though? Is it just the way it has to be? Adora doesn’t think so.

There’s still some small glimmer of hope that makes her believe Catra will turn against the Horde and fight on their side. Maybe if Catra _knows_ Adora is her soulmate, she would turn? She could wait until Catra’s mark appears on its own, because let’s be honest, what are the chances that Adora name _isn’t_ going to be printed on Catra’s arm when she turns eighteen?

Or, Adora could take matters into her own hands.

She has to try.


	5. Chapter 5

The night after, Adora steps into her bedroom to find Catra already lounging on top of her bed, arms stretched out languidly behind her head. She looks comfortable, nestled on the covers. A little _too_ comfortable, Adora thinks, considering she’s in what’s supposed to be her number one enemies’ bedroom.

“Here again?” Adora asks. Cautiously, she wanders over to stand beside the bed, shouldering off her jumper and placing it on a nearby chair.

She can feel Catra’s eyes following her every move, and suddenly, she’s uncomfortable in her own skin. God, she’s so screwed. This was never supposed to happen – her best friend, who she’s known from her earliest memories, isn’t supposed to make her feel like this. Like she’s going to explode. Like she wants to tear her hair out.

Unsure of what to do, she finds herself awkwardly shifting on the spot, because what is the protocol here? It _is_ her bed, but Catra is _right there,_ and if she climbs in then that’s going to put her right up in Catra’s business.

But then again, the other girl did kiss her last night – on light of that, a little bed sharing can’t hurt, can it?

“Where else would I be?” Catra asks finally.

_At the Horde, maybe? With your stupid boss who wants me dead?_

Adora snorts, but her gaze stays fixed firmly against the wall. She knows there’s an edge of tightness in her jaw, but she just can’t _unclench_. Annoyingly, to add further problems to her already miserable life, a little part of her has to pretend like her heart hasn’t just nearly burst out her chest, because Catra might have just said the cutest thing she’s ever heard. She ducks her head to hide her blush, but the knowing smirk Catra sends her tells her that she hasn’t been successful.

The jaw clenches again. “Cool. Great.”

“What are you doing just standing there?” Catra huffs out a small breath and pats the empty space beside her. “Get over here.”

Adora goes.

 

***

 

“You can’t be serious,” Catra says the next night, perched on Adora’s windowsill.

“I am!” Adora laughs.

That earns her a flat look. “Kyle and Rogelio are _not_ dating.”

“They’re soulmates!”

“I refuse to believe it.”

 

***

 

The next time Catra drops by, she kisses Adora thorough and messy before face planting right into a pillow.

“I am so overworked,” she groans.

Adora tries not to stare, tries not to get caught up in how perfect Catra looks in Adora’s rumpled pink sheets. It’s been four days since they last saw each other, and her fingers itch to reach out and touch. Something in her expression must give her away because, when Catra twists to sprawl on her back instead – hair gathered on the pillow in a tangled mess, shirt riding up with the motion – she grins in a way that is absolutely _devastating_.  

Because she knows how she looks, the little shit.

Adora rolls her eyes, but it doesn’t stop her from running her fingers through the strands of Catra’s hair. “Hordak?” she asks, but truthfully, she doesn’t know if she really wants to hear the answer.

“Yeah,” comes Catra’s muffled grunt, hand coming up to hide a yawn.

It doesn’t sting any less than usual. She knows that Hordak is working Catra so hard because he wants to defeat _her_. “Should I be worried?” Adora asks, because she _has_ to. She would be foolish if she didn't. Glimmer would call it a wasted opportunity.

Catra doesn’t answer. Which is an answer in itself, isn’t it?

“Well, shit.”

“What’s with all the cursing recently?” Catra grins, and it’s such a blatantly obvious attempt to try and change the subject that Adora finds herself short circuiting, because it sounds like Catra is trying to _protect_ her from the harsh realities of the Horde, and that just doesn’t seem in character for her at all.

Catra is usually the first person to rub her nose in it, to try and make her feel like she’s inferior, like she’s on the losing side. Because Catra loves to gloat. Which really, should have been the first prompt to set Adora’s alarm bells ringing.

“Huh?”

“Eloquent as always, princess,” Catra smirks. “But seriously, who taught you how to swear?”

Adora shrugs and gazes up at her ceiling like it’ll give her all the answers to life. “Glimmer most likely. Although, Mermista probably had some input too.”

“Mermista,” Catra repeats, humming thoughtfully. “Isn’t that dumb little ship man her soulmate?”

A beat of silence, and then: “Sea-Hawk?!” Adora balks, because _what_. “I don’t _think_ so?”

“I’m pretty sure.”

“Oh, shit. You might be right.”

God, she’s a bad friend. She’s been so distracted by Catra that she hasn’t even noticed her own friend’s _soulmate_. Though, it’s not exactly surprising – Sea-Hawk had been vying for Mermista’s attention since day one. She just didn’t realise the feelings were _reciprocated_. Okay, it’s official: from this moment on she’s going to pay more attention to her friends, and stop being the absolute _worst._

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with the old, boring Adora?” Catra says, like she’s the funniest person in the world.

Hint: she’s not.

“Ha ha,” Adora mutters sarcastically. But still, she finds herself rolling over to face Catra on the bed, tucking her arms under her pillow. The simple domesticity makes her feel warm all over; _this_ is what she's been craving this whole time. After Bow and Glimmer had gotten together, she couldn't help but feel lonely. Now, she's content - she has her best friend back, and her soulmate, and she's _definitely_  head over heels in love. Although, she'd never admit that to Catra. “I’m glad you’re here with me,” she whispers after a quiet eternity.

Laughing quietly, Catra says, “Goodnight, Adora.”

When Adora wakes up the next morning, as usual, Catra is gone.

 

***

 

It’s kind of inevitable when it all falls apart, Adora figures. This kind of arrangement was never built to last.

Because the Horde’s second attack on Bright Moon is by far the worst, and Adora can barely keep up with the throng of soldiers coming her way. Her sword clashes against a nameless soldiers shield, and she narrowly misses getting stabbed in the goddamn _face_. She ducks at the last minute, kicking her (thankfully She-Ra strengthened) leg out and swiping her opponents’ feet from under him.

So far there’s been no sight of Catra, but she knows the other girl is lurking somewhere, up to no good, just like always.

She leaves the main battle to run up the castle steps, because Glimmer and Bow have been gone far too long for it to be nothing. And she knows the fight is in good hands: Sea Hawk is doing his usual – setting ships on fire and aiming them at people. Mermista is sinking as many Horde soldiers as she can without accidentally killing any of the alliance members. Perfuma and Frosta are working together to restrain (and not kill – Frosta, I’m looking at you) the soldiers coming at them from all angles. 

They’re fine. It’s going to be fine.

Taking two steps up at a time, Adora finds herself being pulled in the direction of the War Room. Which, in hindsight, should probably have alerted her that shit was about to go down. She slams through the double doors, mind whirring through endless possibilities. _What if they’ve taken Bow and Glimmer? What if they’re hurt? What if they’re lying dead in a ditch somewhere and Adora would never have known?_  

But that’s not what happens.

Because when she stops dead in the room, only Hordak and Catra are standing there, side by side.

“Hey, Adora,” Catra says quietly, arms clasped behind her back.

Adora takes one look at Hordak, menacingly standing in the room like he owns the place and thinks _oh shit._ It’s the first time she’s ever seen him in person, and the image she had conjured up of him in her mind definitely doesn’t prepare her for the harsh reality. It certainly doesn’t do his scariness justice.

“She-Ra,” Hordak booms. “It’s good to finally see you.”

Snarling, Adora says, in the fiercest voice she can manage, “The feeling is _not_ mutual, asshole.”

That gets her an amused eyebrow raise from Catra, and her mind flashes back to the whispered conversation they had in bed a few weeks ago. _Who are you and what have you done with the old, boring Adora?_

Well, if that was the old, boring Adora, she must be looking pretty damn exciting now.

Hordak laughs softly; a dangerous sound, even to Adora’s ears. “You’ve still got that fighting spirit, I see.”

Drawing her sword, Adora says, “Enough of the chit-chat." She widens her stance, ready to pounce when the opportunity arises. “Why have you come here?”

Hordak only tsks. “Don’t be so uncivilised, Adora. Did Shadow Weaver teach you no manners?”

Catra shoots her a triumphant smirk, and Adora understands the significance of it immediately. _You’re not the favourite anymore_ , it says. _I’m the new number one._ She realises further that the resentment Catra holds for She-Ra, and, by association Adora, will never really go away. It stings. Adora had thought that the nights they had spent wrapped up in each other, laughing again, the murmured exchanges into the early mornings had changed things.

Apparently not.

“What do you want?” Adora asks Hordak, trying her best to avoid Catra’s gaze.

“We want you to join us again,” Catra says.

Call it wistful thinking, or a figment of Adora’s sheer imagination, but there’s a hesitant edge to Catra’s voice. She sounds nervous, almost tentative – again, it’s so unlike her that it makes Adora do a double take. “I’m not going to join you,” Adora scoffs, gripping her sword tighter in her hands. “You’ve got ten seconds to explain yourselves before I start swinging this.”

“Ah,” Hordak smirks. “So, the plan didn’t work then?”

And at that, Adora freezes. He’s got her hook, line and sinker.

Plan?

What plan?

Her eyes shift towards Catra, who’s looking determinedly at the wall.

She wasn’t supposed to fall for his stupid monologues – all good villains have them – but it doesn’t stop her from blurting out a confused, “What?”

Hordak laughs again, big and booming; it makes Adora’s hair stand on edge. “I expected more of you,” he says, watching her carefully. “Not even an ounce of suspicion?” He turns to Catra now and places an approving hand on her shoulder. “You’ve done well, Force Captain Catra.”

Mind whirring, Adora feels her eyebrows turn down into a scowl. Catra’s eyes are big and wide and staring at her in a way that makes her heart _clench_. It’s painful. She doesn’t know what’s going on, but she’s starting to get a really bad feeling.

And then things start to fall into place. They start to click.

All the late-night rendezvous. Catra’s personality transplant. The way Catra would mysteriously show up wherever Adora was. There’s a conversation repeating in a constant loop in Adora’s head.

_I am so overworked._

_Hordak?_

_Yeah._

“You,” Adora hisses, glaring at Catra. But she knows her tough performance isn’t working; she knows both Catra and Hordak can see the hurt on her face, no matter how hard she tries to hide it. “Shit.”

There’s a ringing in her ears. This can’t be happening. She _knew_ it was too good to be true.

Hordak smirks. “Although, I find it quite admirable that you were willing to throw away your soulmate for Catra,” Hordak assesses. “Or plain stupid. Maybe the plan _did_ work after all.”

A plan. It was all a plan.

Her own soulmate was pretending to be in love with her, all for a plan.

None of it was real.

Adora feels like she needs to sit down. This is too much. It hurts.

But then she glances towards Catra and her resolve _hardens_ , because she realises something. Adora has an advantage – a small one, yes, but an advantage nonetheless. There’s no way Catra or Hordak can know that Catra is Adora’s soulmate.

She finds her gaze wandering down towards Catra’s wrist, and then has to forcibly stop her eyes from widening when she finds them covered up for the first time.

Why would they be covered?

Unless…

Catra had finally turned eighteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's count how many times Adora says the word shit in this chapter


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of updates! Things haven't really been great with me, so I had to take a step back for a while. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy the update!

“You know, none of this would have happened if you had just kept your damn mouth shut.”

Adora bites back a weary sigh, because for once, Catra actually has a very valid point. Her head falls against the cold stone wall of her cell with a soft _thunk_. “From the bottom of my heart,” she says slowly, “my bad.”

Snarling, Catra mutters, “God, you truly do live up to that dumb jock stereotype, don’t you?”

When Adora finally lifts her head, gaze snagging on Catra’s murderous expression between the bars separating their cells, she feels choked by a sudden and merciless burst of fondness. _It’s love,_ her brain supplies unhelpfully, to which she gives her brain the metaphorical middle finger and tells it to fuck off. Because despite the situation, she can’t help but want to scoot closer to the other girl. Maybe she could reach through the bars and twine their fingers together, just to reassure Catra that everything would be alright.

She begins to shift, but then Catra’s eyebrows lower over her eyes in irritation, and she shoots Adora a glare _so hateful_ that it makes any tender thoughts wither and die immediately.

“Come near me and I will rip you in half.”

Grimacing, Adora inches to safety further away from the bars. “Okay, no touching.” She surprises herself with a laugh. “Message received.”

They sit in tense silence, which gives Adora time to reflect on how _badly_ she messed up this time.

Okay, so maybe blurting out that Catra was her soulmate in front of Hordak wasn’t the best idea. Actually, it was pretty damn terrible all things considered.

Her attempt to outwit them both was futile. Grumbling to herself, she now understands why Bow and Glimmer were always the masterminds behind the battle strategies. She gets the meetings where her ideas are met with comments like _that’s a…concept, Adora, but why don’t we try it this way._

It’s not like she blames either of them. Her strengths are just more prominent when there’s a sword in her hand, that’s all.

Catra was always the smart one. Adora just followed two paces behind.

 

***

 

There’s a pair of glowing eyes watching Adora when she wakes up from her nap.

Adora blinks once. Twice. “Can I help you?”

Catra scoffs, shuffling around so her back is against the floor. “I was hoping you had died during the night.”

“Aww. That’s sweet.”

“How badly did I fuck up in my previous life,” Catra starts slowly, “to get you as a soulmate?” She turns her head to face Adora, eyebrow raised in a challenge. “Was I some sort of puppy murderer? Did I steal candy from babies?”

She wants an argument. Catra’s tactics are so painfully obvious that despite the insults, Adora can’t help but smirk. She knows all of Catra’s approaches, the techniques she uses to get under Adora’s skin – she’s known them since they were children. She wonders if Catra even realises how well Adora has her figured out. She probably doesn’t have a clue.

Grinning, Adora says, “You’re an actual human nightmare _right now_ , never mind in a previous life.”

“Has it always been like this with you two?” someone calls from what Adora assumes is a couple of cells down. “Better yet, is there anything we can do to turn it off?”

“ _Shut up,"_ somebody else hisses. “This is the only entertainment we’ve had for months.”

Adora can distantly hear other people piping up, bickering between themselves about their new cellmates. It’s petty but it feels good, normal. Like the twilight zone of three am conversations and arguments between her and her old friends at the Horde. Quiet moments in the bunk were practically unheard of – there was always someone up and moving about, bitching over stolen clothes and food. Lonnie was a serial insomniac, Rogelio snored, Catra curled up at the end of Adora’s bed and kicked. _Hard._ And yet, she was used to the noise and the movement.

“You know,” Adora says quietly after a couple of minutes have passed. “I should hate you. I really should.” She hears the tell-tale shuffling of Catra switching positions – she hasn’t fallen asleep yet. “You’ve been messing with my head for months, and you knew how I felt about you.”

A sneer is sent her way, but Adora ignores it. “Everyone knows I’m obsessed with you,” she continues. “It’s so obvious. It drives me insane. I’m supposed to be helping people, winning the war _against_ the Horde, not cosying up to the enemy.”

“You’re an idiot for trusting me.”

Adora sighs, rubbing her hand over her eyes wearily. “You make me weak.”

“I know,” Catra says. “And I’ve been exploiting that fact this whole time.”

Remembering late nights spent together, hands tangled through hair, legs intertwined, Adora’s not fully convinced. The last couple of months had been exactly like their previous relationship they shared just before Adora left – lingering touches, the air filled with _something_ new that was clearly not just friendship.

Adora knows if she hadn’t left, the tension would have snapped sooner or later.

Would they be in a relationship now, if that had been the case? She doesn’t think Shadow Weaver would have ever permitted that. But still, the idea of them together – without any interruptions, without the harsh reality of war – floats through her mind on repeat.

And yet.

She really has been a fool.

She knows Catra makes her weak, and she always _has_ known. But that doesn’t mean she has to lie down and accept it.

She doesn’t want to be weak anymore.

“Thanks,” Adora whispers. “For making me realise how little you care for me. I've been clinging on to this hope that you would feel the same way for me as I do for you, but you never will, will you?” She supposes she should be crying, but the tears don't come. She feels stronger than she has before. "You put on a pretty good performance there, though, kudos to you."

Her words hurl through the air like a grappling hook, and for an instant it seems to hit its intended mark. Something indefinable flickers in Catra’s eyes, causing the fire inside of them to snuff out for a fraction of a second. It’s a blink and you miss it kind of response, because next thing Adora knows Catra is smirking coldly again.

“Well throw the dog a bone, she finally gets it.”

Adora seethes in silence. She doesn’t want to play this game anymore.

Lip curling, driven by Adora’s lack of reaction, Catra says, “It’s your fault I’m stuck in here. Hordak treated me like an equal before you came and ran your mouth.”

She doesn’t stoop to Catra's level. She doesn't respond. 

 

***

 

Maybe it’s that she’s gone a day without food. Maybe it’s because she just had to piss in the corner of a room. Or maybe it’s the lack of immediate peril and endangerment. It’s probably the mere fact that she has been contained in the cells for too fucking long with Catra without reprieve, but whatever the reason, Adora’s patience level for any and all Catra-related exchanges has hit an all-time low.

It’s horrible enough that they’re stuck in rooming confinement spaces, with no light or food. What makes it considerably worse is the fact that Catra cannot seem to shut the hell up, not even for a second.

And by considerably worse, Adora means that it’s driving her fucking batshit crazy.

“– and I mean, it’s _so_ obvious that Scorpia has a crush on me. I’m pretty sure she tried to take me on a date that one time, but I’m just _not_ interested, you know? And Kyle is pretty sure Lonnie has a thing for her. Although this trivial gossip is tedious and – Adora, are you even _listening_ to me?”

Adora groans. “God, please make it stop.”

“I’m bored, Adora.”

“You got yourself into this mess, get yourself out.”

“Actually,” Catra says, gathering herself into a crouching position. “We established yesterday that this was your fault, not mine.”

“If you hadn’t been doing your usual evil scheming in the first place, this would never have happened,” Adora snaps back. She rolls over so that her face is pressed into the cool surface of the ground and tries desperately to block out the sound of Catra’s stupid, annoying whining by jamming her fingers into her ears.

It doesn’t work, because Catra’s petulant voice purrs from behind her. “But Adora,” she says modestly. “Scheming is all I have. It’s literally my entire aesthetic.”

“Shut up, shut up, oh my god, shut up.”

 

***

 

“Do you think if Kyle and Rogelio had a lovechild, it would come out half lizard, half human?” Catra ponders. As the days had passed, she had progressively gotten closer to the section separating them, and thus, closer to Adora. Now, her tail swishes against the cell bars lazily, making a distinctive  _clunk_ _clunk_ sound. “Do you think he’d have like, lizard legs and a human head? Or a lizard head and human legs?”

Adora’s eye has been unfalteringly twitching since day three. “I don’t remember you being _this_ annoying in the Horde.”

Catra hums quietly. “That’s because I wanted to impress you back then.”

And that marks the end of that conversation.

 

*** 

 

“I think he’d have a lizard head and human legs,” Adora replies later that night.

It might be wistful thinking, but she thinks she hears a quiet laugh from the other cell.

 

***

 

A bland meal gets thrown into both of their cells a day later.

Adora can hear the complaints and shouts of the other people down here, which is met by the sound of fists flying and cell doors rattling. She’s thankful that she only has to share bars with Catra – she has no idea what she would do if she could see the others. Probably something stupid, like trying to break out again. Her first and only attempt wasn’t exactly warmly received – she can still feel the sting of the bruises around her eye.

“You’re probably wondering why your band of baby superheroes haven’t zapped in and rescued you like last time,” Catra says, tearing a strip off her sandwich with her sharp teeth.  

“Not really.”

“It’s because we changed locations,” Catra continues, like Adora hadn’t even spoken. “Didn’t want a repeat of last time.” Chewing thoughtfully, she says, “I sure do regret that now.”

Adora shoots Catra an incredulous look. “You think we would have busted you out?” When Catra raises an eyebrow and shrugs, she can’t stop the hysterical laugh that bubbles up. “Are you serious right now?”

Catra doesn’t reply, but she does hand a tomato through the cell bars. Eyes narrowed with suspicion, Adora gingerly plucks the tomato from Catra’s hand. “If this is poisoned, I’m coming back to haunt you.”

“Poison is a weakling’s weapon.”

“Very reassuring, thank you Catra.”

 

***

 

After that, they build a tentative friendship.

Well, Adora isn't exactly sure she'd call it _friendship_ per se, and it's certainly not how they were before the Horde.

It's nothing. It's something. It's definitely a start.

There's no more acting on Catra's part. She doesn't attempt to befriend Adora on the basis of some twister rivalry. And she doesn't try to seduce Adora on the basis of a mission - a means to turn the war in the Hordes favour. After all, there's no one here to witness Catra's actions. There's no menacing intent to her extension of friendship.

In fact, Adora sees an entirely new side of Catra's, one that she's never seen before. 

She realises how _good_ an actress Catra had been. And while there must have been some real interactions between them - Adora thinks maybe ninety-percent of their friendship back at the Horde had been genuine - Catra's true personality begins to shine through the gaps. 

It’s obvious that Catra and her have always had a _thing -_ she’s well aware that it comes from their natural connection of being soulmates. But before, there had always been a bitter undercurrent to their relationship. Now, she realises it stemmed from Catra’s insecurity, from Shadow Weaver’s constant comparison of them both.

Shadow Weaver set impossible standards for Catra to live up to and didn’t hold Adora to the same set of rules. She understands this now. She gets Catra’s spite, and her hatred, and her desire to prove herself. She thinks Catra might be starting to understand things from Adora’s point of view, too.

And with this newfound acceptance, comes a slow routine built between the bars.  

Adora’s awareness of Catra festers away like a fresh wound. From the corner of her eye, she watches Catra carry out her daily work out, watches her carving things into the walls with her nails, watches the little things she does to keep herself amused.

But her watching Catra is nothing new.

What’s new is the way Catra watches her back.

She knows eventually they’ll need to deal with this. But for now it’s gentle, vulnerable. They’re locked in a cell and the outside world doesn’t matter. The complications of life and war doesn’t matter.

It’s only natural, Adora guesses. Forced to spend unwavering lengths of time together, with only each other for company. They were bound to come to some sort of compromise, some sort of empathy.

“Are you going to try and make things up to Hordak, when he lets you out of here?” Adora asks her one night, arm pressed up against the bars separating them. Catra is against the other side, and she can feel the warmth of her arm though her clothes. “I assume this is just punishment. Once you prove your loyalty, you’ll be back in his good books.”

“Probably. I’ll have to perform one hell of a mastermind plan to get myself out of this one. But what else can I do?”

Adora wants to say _come with me, we can go together._

She wants to say _can’t you just choose me, this one time? I would choose you._

_Every. Damn Time._

“Be sure to bust me out of here too,” is what she says instead. “I need a working toilet again. And a burger." 

“That wouldn’t be a very effective way to get Hordak to trust me again,” Catra laughs quietly. “Anyway, I’ve lost track of how many times you’ve busted yourself out of these cells. You don't need me.”

“Not true,” Adora argues. “You let me out that one time. And then Glimmer teleported in to get me. I’m pretty useless.”

Scoffing, Catra says, “You’re a lot of things, but useless isn’t one of them.”

 

*** 

 

Adora is almost, _almost_ getting used to their routine – get up, exercise, eat shitty food, scratch undignified drawings of each other into the wall, argue, make up, talk all night – when Scorpia slams through Catra’s cell door. Adora scrambles upright, watching through the cell bars as Catra remains nonchalantly in her sitting position.  

Scorpia is visibly out of breath. “Get up, kitten,” she says through her pants. “We’re getting you out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we finally have some understanding !!!! We going back to their roots!!!!


End file.
